


Destiny

by chick_with_wifi



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, deaf!Root
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 19:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7519846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chick_with_wifi/pseuds/chick_with_wifi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hi,” said Shaw. “So you’re my new roommate?”</p><p>Root pulled her phone out of her pocket and typed into a note, ‘I guess so’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The college grounds seemed to stretch on forever as Root and Harold walked towards the main building for their first day. Root’s dark wavy hair was loose and she was dressed in black jeans and a maroon button-down shirt, wearing her satchel slung over one shoulder. Harold looked very dapper in a grey suit and carried his briefcase in one hand, despite Root’s insistence that it made him look more like a professor than a student.

 _“Who designed this place?”_ signed Root in frustration as they finally reached the large sandstone building, but could not see anything vaguely resembling an entrance. There were a few windows on both floors, and a patio-style door that was clearly not an entrance.

 _“I think we might be lost,”_ replied Harold, resting his briefcase against his leg so he could have both hands free.

 _“You think?”_ Root raised one eyebrow. From her pocket she produced a map of she grounds and frowned at it, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand. This was definitely the right building, perhaps the entrance was round the other side? she thought. She was about to suggest as much to Harold when a tall man approached them.

“Are you lost?” he asked. He was also a student, but judging from his height could easily be in the year above them. Like Harold he wore a suit, but managed to make it look slightly more casual and less like he was off to a job interview.

“If you could point us in the direction of the entrance we would be very grateful,” said Harold politely, signing as he spoke.

He blinked and froze for a second, then nodded. “Of course. I take it it’s your first day?”

 _“That obvious, huh?”_ signed Root, mouthing the words.

The man smiled. “Afraid so. I’m John.” He slowly fingerspelled his name.

“I’m Harold,” he said with a slight blush.

Interesting, she thought. _“I’m R-O-O-T.”_

“Root?” asked John, unsure if he’d understood correctly.

She nodded.

“I’ll, uh, show you to the entrance now.” He led them round the other side of the building towards a side door with the world’s smallest sign that read ‘new students’. “They couldn't afford a bigger sign.”

Harold smiled, and Root elbowed him in the side with a triumphant expression on her face. “Thank you, John,” he said before entering the building.

As soon as John was out of sight, Root elbowed him again. _“He’s your soulmate!”_

_“Shut up.”_

_“But he is! Your tattoo says ‘are you lost?’ and you were staring at him like a lovesick puppy!”_

_“I was not!”_ signed Harold as if he was mortally offended.

_“You were so! Then when you spoke he did a double take, like you'd said his tattoo.”_

Her friend awkwardly straightened his blazer and turned an even deeper shade of red. _“You really think so?”_

_“Trust the deaf girl when it comes to reading body language. I know so.”_

_“Excuse me,”_ signed a young man, waving his hand just under where Root was looking. _“Are you R-O-O-T G-R-O-V-E-S?"_

Root nodded. _“The one and only.”_

He had sandy blonde hair, thick glasses and was wearing a simple blue T-shirt and jeans. Nerdy, but still professional. _“I’m Eric, your interpreter. It’s nice to meet you.”_

_“Nice to meet you too.”_

_“Shall we go and get you settled in?”_ he asked politely.

Root nodded. _“See you later, Harry.”_

She followed Eric to the desk as he explained the registration process, when he would be available to interpret and various other things. A little while later he led her towards her dorm room.

 _“This is your room,”_ he explained, giving her the key. _“Your roommate is already here, she arrived earlier this morning.”_

Root unlocked the door and entered a smallish room with beige walls, a bed on either side and an adjoining door that presumably led to a bathroom. Sat on one of the beds doing something on her phone was a pretty woman with long, dark hair in a ponytail wearing a black tank top and dark trousers. At the sound of the door opening she glanced up. “Hi,” she said.

Root awkwardly raised her hand in greeting. She hadn't expected her roommate to be quite so...good looking. She stepped the rest of the way into the room, allowing Eric to enter.

 _“Can you translate?”_ asked Root, still looking at her new roommate.

Eric nodded.

_“Hi, I’m R-O-O-T. What’s your name?”_

The woman replied, and Root watched both of them as Eric signed, _“S-H-A-W. Nice to meet you.”_

Root smiled. _“You too.”_

Eric glanced at the door. _“I’ll leave you to unpack.”_

He exited, and Root sat down on the unoccupied bed. For want of something to do, she waved again.

“Hi,” said Shaw. “So you’re my new roommate?”

Root pulled her phone out of her pocket and typed into a note, ‘I guess so’. She held it up for Shaw to see. Then she added, ‘feel free to blast music at all hours of the night, it won’t bother me’.

Thankfully, Shaw laughed. “You seem pretty cool.”

‘You too. I think I’ll take a shower, if that's alright? It’s been a long journey.’

Shaw nodded. “No problem. Where did you travel from?”

‘Texas.’

“That is long way. Well, I’d better finish unpacking.”

Root took her toiletries, a towel and some spare clothes into their small bathroom. It was not overly modern, but clean. As she stepped under the running water, she saw the reflection of her tattoo in the mirror. ‘What an idiot’ written on her body in cursive script, a stark contrast to her pale skin. The first words she would presumably hear her soulmate say. Of course she’d looked, but there were surprisingly few resources online for researching how the system worked for deaf people. Did it count if they read their soulmate's lips while they said it? Or did their soulmate had to sign it or write it down? Root kept telling herself that she had these words written on her for a reason, and someday everything would make sense.

…..

Shaw lay on her back with her hands clasped behind her head and stared at the ceiling. Her roommate seemed nice enough, not a party animal or overly friendly so they should get on just fine. She could still hear the shower running, and figured she had enough time to quickly change clothes before Root came back in. She pulled off her top, exposing her tattoo that read ‘stay with me’. Many hours of her life had been dedicated to trying to figure out what context would lead to that being the first words someone said to her. She’d considered it might be waking up after a one night stand to a very clingy individual, but presumably they would have spoken before that. The tattoo on her chest was a constant reminder that, no matter how different she was, Sameen Shaw had a soulmate.

Root knocked on the adjoining door and Shaw was about to say ‘come in’ when she remembered that wasn't her brightest idea ever and opened the door. Wrapped in a towel with her hair dripping down her back, Root nodded her thanks and retrieved a hairdryer from her satchel.

Shaw tapped her on the shoulder. “Class starts in half an hour,” she said.

Root made an ‘OK’ hand gesture and went back into the bathroom to dry her hair and get dressed.

Maybe I should learn ASL, thought Shaw. Just to make communication easier, not because I like her or anything. It’s basic courtesy, that’s all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your lovely comments. In this chapter, flashbacks are indicated by ***** before and after. The next update should be tomorrow, so stay tuned.

Root and Shaw bonded during those first few weeks, especially since Shaw and John were old friends, which in turn brought Harold into their friendship circle. The four of them were inseparable, and the rest of their class had taken to referring to them as ‘Team Machine’. Nobody precisely knew why, but there were several theories knocking around. Root and Harold’s status as computer nerds, Shaw and John’s reputation on the football field from middle school or the way the four of them fitted together like a well-oiled machine. But one thing about them was for certain - you didn’t mess with Team Machine. Somebody did once, and to this day it is a story whispered to nervous freshmen behind the bike shed.

That morning, Shaw and Root had their Biology lecture together. The professor had yet to arrive, so Root wrote in her notebook, ‘do you want to grab lunch after this?’ and tilted it so Shaw could see. The other woman nodded. They both had free periods after Biology on a Tuesday and occasionally went off campus to get some nicer food than the gruel available from the cafeteria. The professor entered and began his lecture, Eric interpreting at the front. Twenty minutes in, he was about to demonstrate an experiment when he realised he was missing a test tube.

“I appear to have forgotten something! Fear not, class, I’ll be right back.” He scurried out of the classroom, before promptly realising he had forgotten the key to the supply cupboard and returned for it.

Shaw rolled her eyes. That professor would forget his own head if it wasn't attached. She tapped Root on the shoulder and signed, _“what an idiot.”_

Root’s heart nearly stopped. Sameen Shaw using ASL! And not only that, but she had said her tattoo! Quickly, she convinced herself it was just a coincidence. After all, everybody knew it had to be the first thing a person said to their soulmate. Not a random phrase few weeks after they met. But part of her couldn't help but wonder…

“Sorry about that,” said their professor upon his return. “Now, about this experiment.” He went on, explaining the effect of light concentration on photosynthesis when other factors were involved, and demonstrated using pondweed. Root tried to focus on the lesson, but her mind kept wandering to a universe in which Shaw was her soulmate.

Eventually the class ended and Root walked out with Shaw. _“What do you want to eat?”_ she signed.

Shaw shrugged. _“C-H-I-N-E-S-E?”_

Root nodded and slung her bag over her shoulder. The two of them went to their local Chinese takeout, Root opting for cashew chicken and Shaw for roast pork lo mein. Since it was a nice day they ate it sat under a tree on the college grounds. There were no other people around and it was very peaceful.

Root wasn't sure whether to tell Shaw about her tattoo, since it was considered very personal information and people often didn't mention their tattoos unless both parties believed they had met their soulmate, something you could usually tell from their facial expression. Sometimes close friends told each other at sleepovers, giggling about their possible future partner. Root never had, but then she’d never been one for sleepovers. She and Harold had met a few years previously in a local computer shop and became fast friends over their shared love of technology. They had shared their tattoos one night shortly before starting college, when they had been up nearly all night working on a coding project, running on red bull and chocolate. It was sort of like her first sleepover, except with less pillow fights. 

*****  
Harold took another swig of red bull and pulled up his shirt to show her, _“‘Are you lost?’. I really hope it isn't some creepy old guy who’s going to offer me sweets.”_

Root laughed and shook her head. _“That won't happen. But who would you like it to be? A pretty young woman? Blonde hair?”_

Harold thought for a second. _“Perhaps. I don't know yet.”_

Feeling the need to reciprocate, Root pulled her shirt down at the collar to reveal her own tattoo. __“‘What an idiot.’ I hope they aren't talking about me. I’m deaf not stupid.” Suddenly her eyes widened. _“What if somebody says it to me and I don't know because I can't hear them! Or does this mean I met them when I was a kid and just don't remember?”_

Harold gently took her can of red bull off her and set it in the coffee table. _“Nobody really understands how these things work, but it’s certainly far too late,”_ he glanced at his watch, _“or rather far too early to get into this. We should get some sleep.”_

Root lay on the sofa with her head resting on one of the pillows, and Harold crashed on the blow up mattress on the floor, their computer screens the only source of light in the dark room.

*****  
Shaw finished her food and put her disposable chopsticks in her empty container, standing up. “You done?” she asked, gesturing to Root’s half empty container.

Nodding, Root handed it to her friend. While Shaw went to the trash can, she stretched out on the warm grass and closed her eyes. Shaw came back and lay down, deciding to join Root in a short nap. Before she did, she set an alarm on her phone giving them enough time to get to class should they both fall asleep indefinitely. She’d wake Root when the time came. Resting her head on her arm, from this position Shw could just see the shadow of her tattoo under her shirt. John had seen her tattoo just the day before, he was the first person other than her parents to learn what it said.

*****  
“Good game, Shaw,” said John, fistbumping her. “You played well, never mind what Lambert thinks.”

“Not so bad yourself,” she returned, rubbing her face with her towel as they walked towards the changing rooms.

With a sneer on his face, Jeremy Lambert approached them. “Shaw, Reese, where exactly do you think you’re going?”

“The changing room,” replied John calmly.

“The changing room is for people who play by the rules. The two of you have no place there.”

Shaw’s hands curled into fists and John lightly placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her decking Jeremy there and then. “We do play by the rules,” she growled. “You’re just jealous because your team lost.”

Jeremy scoffed. “My team lost because you two fouled and Coach Hersh refused to admit it because you’re his favourite. His little pet.”

Steam was practically coming out of Shaw’s ears. “Say that again, I dare you.”

“He’s not worth it, Shaw,” said John. “Let him go.”

Shaw relented and glared at the back of Jeremy’s retreating head as if she could burn a hole right through it. “He’s an ass.”

“I know. Where do we get changed now? There's no way we could show our faces in the changing rooms and expect them not to come into contact with someone's fist.”

Shaw shrugged. “My dorm room? I have a shower and Root is spending the night at Harold’s. Said she had some homework she wanted his help with.”

“OK, thanks.”

Shaw let John take first shower, and laid herself some clean clothes on the bed. When John emerged he had the towel wrapped around his waist and Shaw turned to ask him if he had some socks, accidentally catching sight of his bare chest, tattoo exposed. She quickly covered her eyes with her hand and turned away. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry.”

“It’s OK. Did you see my tattoo?”

Shaw kept her hand over her eyes, trying to locate her shampoo in her drawer by touch. “Not for long enough to read it.” The only thing about it she’d clocked was that it was quite long. She found it kinda funny that for such a taciturn person John had such a chatty soulmate. Maybe opposites do attract.

“It says ‘If you could point us in the direction of the entrance we would be very grateful’. The first thing Harold ever said to me.”

Shaw put her hand down but didn't turn around. “So that’s why you and him are so…” She searched for the right word. “Mushy.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“Since I accidentally, uh, you know, I suppose it's only fair that I tell you what mine says.”

“Only if you want to.”

Shaw eventually located her shampoo and placed it on top of her towel on her bed. The she turned around and lifted up her shirt to reveal the words ‘stay with me’ tattooed on her abdomen.

John’s lips quirked upward slightly. “Looks like you got a soppy one, Shaw.”

“Oh, don't start. Right, I’m going for my shower. And before you ask, no I have not met my soulmate.”

John opened his mouth.

“And no, John, I do not know what we are going to do about Jeremy. He probably will try to exact his revenge at some point. Until then, the best we can do is be ready.” She vanished into the bathroom, leaving John to replay the match in his head and try to figure out if he or Shaw had actually broken the rules at any point.

*****


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your lovely comments. If there is anything you want to see in this 'verse let me know in the comments.  
> Also, content warning for this chapter: a fight, but it is not too graphic.

The next evening, Root entered the library to find Shaw hunched over a Chemistry textbook, one hand holding her head up and the other fiddling with her pen. Sliding gracefully into the seat next to her, Root offered Shaw the sandwich she had brought.

_“Thank you,”_ signed Shaw, devouring it like she hadn't eaten in a week. 

Root watched her fondly, then glanced at the textbook. _“Is this even on the syllabus?”_

Shaw shook her head. _“I wanted to...read..head.”_

_“Read ahead?”_ offered Root.

_“Yes.”_ Shaw sighed tiredly and closed her book. _Do you want to go?”_

_“Where?” ___

Shaw glanced at the clock. It was twenty past nine, and she was starting to feel the exhaustion of several late nights in her bones. It would be so much easier to just go to bed and deal with everything in the morning. Her schoolwork, the whole football situation and whatever else the universe decided to throw at her. On the other hand, she was in the prime of her life and wanted to spend time with her friends. _“We could watch a film in our room, invite the boys, order some food?”_

__“Sounds great!”_ _

…..  
Half an hour later the four friends were sat on the floor of Root and Shaw’s room, Root’s laptop on the bed playing ‘the Amazing Spider-Man’ with subtitles. Root was leaning against Shaw’s bed with her knees up and arms wrapped around them and a half-empty pizza box on the floor in front of her. On her left was Shaw, sat cross-legged and munching her own pizza, engrossed in the action. John had stretched out his long legs and rested his head on Harold's shoulder despite Shaw’s insistence that it was an awful position to eat in. Meanwhile Harold had fretted about getting pizza grease on his suit until Root presented him with a tea towel to wear as a bib. Like the loyal friend he was, he wore it proudly. As the film played, Shaw finished her own pizza and, after asking permission, polished off Root’s as well. 

When it finished, Root took the DVD out and put it back in its box. _“The G-R-A-N-D C-A-N-Y-O-N should be called the G-R-A-N-Y-O-N,”_ she signed absentmindedly. 

“What was in your pizza?” asked Shaw, laughing and having another sip of coke. 

Root shrugged. _“Good ideas?”_

“Did you guys like the film?” asked John before Root could rename another wonder of the world. 

Shaw nodded. “It had some good action.” 

_“And science,”_ added Harold. 

_"Plus, G-W-E-N is really pretty,”_ supplied Root. _“And sweet.”_

Shaw yawned, stretched and looked at the clock. “I suppose we should get some sleep.” 

John nodded, also yawning. “Hey, Shaw, your towel is still in my room from yesterday. Do you want to come and get it?” 

“OK, yeah. _See you soon, R-O-O-T.”_

Harold stood and put on his jacket. _“Good night.”_

_“Bye,”_ signed Root as she gathered up the empty pizza boxes. 

Outside, there was a chilly breeze and it was dark apart from the orange glow of the street lamps. Before long, Shaw was wistful for the warmth of her dorm. Why had she agreed to trek all this way with John in the depths of fall? “See you, Harold,” she said as they parted ways. 

“Good night,” said Harold, extracting his keys from his pocket. 

Shaw shoved her hands into her coat pockets and walked in silence with John. They were walking past the gym when suddenly in the shadows before them she thought she spotted a figure. A man, perhaps. He stepped into the light and revealed himself to be Jeremy Lambert. 

Well well well, look who we have here. If it isn't the two cheats,” he drawled. 

Shaw froze, blood turning to ice in her veins and her heart pounding. 

"We don't need to do this now, Lambert,” said John, holding one hand out in front of himself like he was trying to calm a frightened animal. “Two on one, it wouldn't be fair.” 

"Who said anything about fair?” He beckoned, and two more muscular lads walked out of the shadows. 

John’s other hand was behind his back and he tried to send a text to Root, relying on his memory of where the keys were. Please get this, he thought. 

One of the lads took a swing at Shaw, who ducked and thrust her elbow into his sternum. As he staggered backwards she kicked the back of his knees and he fell to the ground. The next few seconds were a blur, as Jeremy tackled John to the ground and held his elbow just above his throat. Shaw threw herself at them and tried to pull Jeremy off John, but the second of Jeremy's lackeys slammed her into the side of the dumpster. 

All the air was knocked out of Shaw and her entire back stung. Gasping for breath, she saw the three men leave. John was still on the ground, but alive and unharmed. 

In the distance, she swore she could see a familiar figure running towards them, but she thought she must be imagining it. After all, there were black spots clouding her vision which could be an indication of concussion along with the ringing in her ears. It was entirely possible she had hit her head at some point, she supposed. 

The figure got closer, and it was definitely Root. She had thrown her coat on over her clothes and was breathing heavily as if she had run the entire way from her dorm. Tears shone in her eyes, although that may have been the light. She knelt next to Shaw and placed a cold hand on either of Shaw’s cheeks, gently tilting her head one way and the other. Dizziness fogged Shaw’s head and she fought the urge to retreat into herself. 

Shaw did not look good when Root found her. She was laid in front of a dumpster with a bust lip and her eyes half closed. Fear coursed through Root, though she was distantly aware of John stood behind her Shaw was her main priority. She appeared to be losing consciousness, not looking at Root and her eyes were closing. Though Root hated using her voice, she said, “stay with me. You’re going to be alright.” She gently slapped Shaw’s cheek. “Hey.” The shorter woman’s eyes opened and she focused on Root, forehead creased in pain. 

Root turned to John. “Can you get her to the nurse's office?” 

John nodded and gently slid his arms under Shaw, one below her knees and the other below her back. He picked her up and carried her, Root insisting on holding Shaw’s hand the entire way. 

The nurse’s office was a dingy little room with a bed by one wall and a small cabinet next to it,just off the reception area. Root opened the door and John carried Shaw in, laying her down on the bed. Nurse Jane put down the book she was reading and lept up. “What happened?”she asked worriedly. The on-campus nurse was an older woman with short, curly hair who, as far as the students were concerned, had worked there forever. 

"She got into a fight,” explained John. “Some jerk threw her into the side of a dumpster.” 

"‘Mm fine,” mumbled Shaw, halfheartedly batting John and Root’s hands away. 

Root stood back to let Nurse Jane examine Shaw and nervously chewed her thumbnail. John put an arm around her shoulders and she smiled gratefully at him. 

What felt like an age later, the nurse said to Shaw, “you have a concussion and what looks like bruised ribs. I’ll need to take a closer look if that’s alright?” 

Shaw nodded and immediately winced. 

_“What did she say?”_ Root asked John. 

"She has concussion and bruised ribs,” he repeated clearly, facing her. 

_“Thank you.”_

Nurse Jane carefully lifted Shaw’s shirt up and gently prodded her ribs. In doing so, she revealed Shaw’s tattoo to the whole room. 

'Stay with me’, thought Root. I said that to her. You don't suppose that could mean… 

“Alright,” said Nurse Jane. “You should apply this ice pack for 15 minutes at a time and take aspirin. You should be able to go back to your room, but your friends should monitor you for changes in behaviour.” 

Shaw slowly sat up, wincing. “Thank you.” She caught Root looking at her tattoo, and it dawned on her. 

Without hesitating, Root removed her own shirt. 

“Was that really necessary?” exclaimed John, covering his eyes quickly. 

Shaw read the tattoo and blinked. “So we’re…” 

_“Looks like it.”_

“Wow." 

Root chuckled slightly. _“Yeah.”_

“Happy as I am for you guys, can you be clothed now?” asked John, hand still over his eyes but lips visible. 

"Why, you got a problem?” teased Shaw. 

“As a matter of fact, yes." 

Root rolled her eyes and put her shirt back on, side-eyeing John in the process. Shaw did the same, slowly and not without wincing. Root rushed over and tried to help, but Shaw shook her head. “I got it.” 

"Well, uh, will that be all?” asked Nurse Jane. Root noticed that she was fiddling with her staff lanyard. 

“I think so,” Shaw said and signed, lowering herself off the bed slowly. Once she was stood, Root offered an arm and helped her. 

“Goodbye,” said Nurse Jane, eyes fixed on Root and Shaw’s linked arms. 

John insisted on spending the night in their room, and neither of the girls disagreed. When they arrived at the door, Harold was stood there pounding on the door. He heard them approaching and turned, throwing his arms around John and nearly knocking him over in the process. “I was so worried! I overheard Jeremy in the room next door telling one of his lackeys about how he, and I quote, got his revenge on those two cheating jerks.” 

“I’m alright,” said John. Harold stepped back and looked at the two girls, noticing Root supporting the shorter woman. “Unfortunately, I can't say the same for Shaw." 

The woman in question waved a hand. “It's just bruised ribs and a concussion. I’ve had worse.” 

“But you're alright? And you, Root?” 

"We’re fine,” insisted Shaw. “But I do appreciate you worrying about us." 

_“There’s only one thing to do now,”_ announced Root. _“Think of a way to get back at J-E-R-E-M-Y.”_


	4. Chapter 4

Shaw yawned. “Can we do evil plotting in the morning?” She rubbed her face and unlocked the door.

_“I suppose,”_ shrugged Root. She flopped down on her bed and folded her hands on her stomach.

Shaw stopped and frowned at her bed. “I suppose you two could share, but considering these beds barely fit one person there's no way they’d fit two.”

“Far be it for me to oust you out of your own bed,” said Harold sincerely, stepping back.

“I could sleep in the bathtub,” offered John.

“We don't have a bathtub,” Shaw reminded him.

Root tapped her nightstand to get their attention. _“You’re more than welcome to sleep in the shower cubicle!”_

“In the what?” asked John.

“Shower cubicle,” translated Shaw and Harold in unison. Shaw shared a soft smile with Root.

_“R-O-O-T, don't give him ideas!”_ signed Harold exasperatedly.

“I’m sleeping in the shower cubicle,” announced John, stepping into the bathroom to make his point.

“Now look at what you've done, I hope you're proud of yourselves,” Harold said and signed to the girls.

“What did I do?” asked Shaw, offended.

_“Not stopping him?”_ Root stood up and got her pyjamas out of her case, motioning for Shaw to turn around. She quickly got changed as Shaw did the same.

As Root was putting her clothes away, Shaw waved next to where she was looking. _“Look at the boys.”_

Root peared through the half-open door and stifled a laugh. The shower door was open, and John’s torso was in it, his legs sticking out and practically touching the opposite wall. Not to mention the fact that they were resting on top of Harold’s stomach, who was laid perpendicular to him and his head was under the sink. Both of them were sound asleep. Biting her bottom lip to stop herself laughing, Root snapped a picture on her phone.

_“It’s been a long day,”_ signed Shaw. _“Good night.”_

_“Good night.”_ Root took her hearing aids out and climbed into bed. She lay on her right side, facing away from the wall and stared at the vertical slit of light on the wall opposite the window, caused by the gap Shaw had left between the curtains. She had reached the stage of tiredness where she couldn't hold on to one train of thought for long, flitting between trying to come up with a way of exacting revenge on Jeremy and imagining herself giving him a good, old-fashioned punch in the face - a mental image she found oddly satisfying.

…..  
The following day was a Saturday, so the four friends ended up sleeping in until almost noon. When Shaw woke up, she swung her legs out of bed and her torso immediately complained. It felt like somebody had taken a hammer to her chest. Her head ached slightly, but it was nothing serious. She walked over to the window and opened the curtains. Dull light filtered into the room, causing Root to blink herself awake and glare at Shaw.

_“Morning, sleeping beauty,”_ signed Shaw.

Root smiled sleepily. _“Good morning.”_ She sat up and put her purple hearing aids in, the fog of sleep leaving her mind. _“How are you feeling?”_

Shaw shrugged slightly. _“Alright. A bit sore.”_ She sat back down on her bed and crossed her legs. _“Can I ask you something?”_

Root nodded and motioned for her to go ahead.

_“Do your…,”_ she faltered, realising she didn't know the sign.

_“Hearing aids,”_ provided Root, making the sign by hooking one finger behind each ear.

_“Do your hearing aids help you hear anything?”_

Root nodded slightly. _“I can hear A-M-B-I-E-N-T noise, but not voices or anything. Your signing has really improved!”_

Shaw smiled. _“Thank you. H-A-R-O-L-D has been helping me learn. And you’re pretty easy to understand.”_

_“I’m anything but easy,”_ signed Root with a wicked expression on her face.

Shaw’s eyebrows shot up and she practically spluttered in surprise.To her left the door opened and John emerged, hair ruffled and rubbing sleep out of his eyes. 

_“Good morning,”_ signed Root with a smirk on her face. Following John was Harold, his suit creased and bags under his eyes.

“If I didn't know better I'd say you two look tired from a totally different reason to having spent the night in our bathroom,” said Shaw smugly. 

John gave her a look and was about to say something when Root got a notepad and pen out of her case and began drawing something. Turning it to show them, she revealed a roughly sketched floorplan of Jeremy’s dorm. _“I had a dream about this and realised it is the perfect way to get our own back on you know who.”_

Harold covered his face with his hands and shook his head. “Plans that start with ‘I had a dream’ are never good,” he said and signed.

Root grinned. _“I know.”_ She pointed to the window and door on her drawing. _“We put glue in his window and door locks, then say there is free beer outside but he’ll be stuck and won't be able to get any.”_

Her plan was met with blank stares from the rest of the team.

_“OK, not that then.”_ She sheepishly put her notepad away.

“We could always put a spider in his bed,” suggested Shaw.

Nobody responded and Root made a sign indicative of a tumbleweed rolling through the room, making Shaw laugh.

Harold stared pensively off into the distance, literally stroking his chin. Then he snapped his fingers and pointed at them. “I have it. We repeatedly prank call Jeremy.”

Root almost fell off the bed in her eagerness to sign, _“Dibs not doing it!”_

“Well quite,” muttered Harold.

“I think it's a great idea,” said John, smiling at Harold.

Shaw chewed one of her nails. “Do any of you guys actually have Jeremy’s number?”

They all shook their heads. “But I’m sure Root can find it somehow,” said Harold.

Root nodded once, in a way that very much said ‘obviously’.

“But first priority: breakfast,” insisted Shaw. “Then Operation Annoy Jeremy Lambert. OK, we need to rename that.”


	5. Chapter 5

Root proudly presented Harold with a piece of paper that had a mobile number written on it underneath ‘Jeremy the jerk’. _“You can call him when he is in class and get his phone confiscated,”_ she suggested with a wicked smile.

Harold nodded. _“I certainly could.”_

_“But you’re not going to, are you?”_

Harold breathed a heavy sigh and shook his head.

Root couldn't believe him. _“We can't let this sorry excuse for a human being hurt S-H-A-W and get away with it! Nobody can prove it was him, so it's up to us.”_

“Nobody can prove it was him, you say,” Shaw mused aloud.

_“What are you thinking?”_ asked Root.

“I’m thinking,” she said and signed, “that there was a security camera nearby that nobody saw the footage of since it was the middle of the night and the gym is being remodelled. I’m thinking, we can find that footage.”

Root smiled. _“I like your thinking.”_

John shrugged. “I’m in.”

“I suppose I’m in too,” said Harold as if he could hardly believe it himself.

Root held her hand out and the others all placed their hands over it, breaking away after a second. 

…..

Root and Harold had agreed to break into the IT technicians’ office where things like CCTV and students’ online searches were monitored. When they got to the door it was locked and there was nobody in sight.

_“They must be on their lunch break,”_ signed Root, glancing at her watch. Out of her pocket she produced two hairpins and jiggled them in the lock until they turned. Slowly, she pushed the door open and peered both ways before entering. The room was dark, the only light filtering in from a high up window. There were overhead fluorescent lights but the pair did not dare turn them on. The room was a rectangle, and warm from the monitors lining the two long walls. Before each computer was a swivel chair with a rough green seat cover. Root gracefully sat on one, put gloves on and woke up the computer. _“You be on lookout,”_ she told Harold.

Obliging, he stood in the doorway and watched for passers by. Root’s gloved fingers clicked rapidly on the keyboard as she brought up security footage and fast-forwarded through it. When she found what she was looking for, she couldn't bring herself to actually watch it. Instead, she inserted her USB into the port and transferred the footage onto it. Then she ejected it, deleted her history and shut the computer off. She put the USB in her pocket and stood. _“Mission accomplished.”_ She made sure the chair was exactly how she’d found it and locked the door before leaving.

_“Next stop E-R-I-C’s room,”_ she announced.

_“Wait, why?”_ asked Harold, brows drawn together in confusion.

Root blinked at him, one eye closing slightly faster than the other.

_“Was that meant to be a wink?”_

Root tossed her hair and led the way to the building where the teachers lived and knocked on one of the doors with a strong sense of purpose. Eric, dressed causally in slacks and a button-down, opened the door. _“R-O-O-T, hi. Can I help you?”_

Root smiled sweetly at him. _“I just wanted to let you know I might be a bit late to first lesson on Monday. I don't recommend you are, though.”_

Eric looked at her suspiciously, but Root’s cheerful expression didn't betray anything. Eventually, he relented. _“OK. Thank you for telling me.”_

_“My pleasure. Bye!”_ She waved to Eric then walked with Harold back to the students’ building. _“See you later,”_ she signed when the time came for them to part their ways.

_“For your sake, I hope all this works out,”_ he signed grimly.

Root rolled her eyes. _“Have a little faith.”_ She unlocked her door and left him in the hallway shaking his head in despair at her.

…..

When Shaw returned from studying in the library she found Root sat on her bed with her laptop in front of her, on a Skype call. She was signing at a million words a minute, and Shaw found herself staring at how graceful and expressive her movements were. Who knows how long she would have stood there had Root not turned to see who had entered.

_“Hi! These are my parents,”_ she signed to Shaw, gesturing to the two people on screen. On the left was a blonde woman wearing a lot of makeup, and on the right a dark-haired man with the same eyes as Root. To her parents, she signed, _“This is my roommate S-H-A-W.”_

Shaw stepped into view of the camera and signed, _“Nice to meet you._

_“She signs? Is she deaf?”_ asked Root’s mum as if Shaw wasn't there. 

_“No, she’s hearing. She’s learning to sign,”_ explained Root. _“I’ll let her introduce herself.”_ She stood and moved behind the laptop. When she was out of view of the camera, she signed to Shaw, _“Tell them a bit about yourself, but don't mention the soulmate thing. They don't exactly...approve of the system.”_

Before Shaw could reply, Root went into the bathroom leaving Shaw to speak to her parents. She sat awkwardly on Root’s bed and casually waited for one of them to break the silence. 

"So, you’re Root’s roommate?” asked Mrs Groves in a strong Texan accent. Part of Shaw wondered if Root had a Texan accent, since she hadn't exactly been in the best way the one time she spoke. 

"I am,” replied Shaw, sounding far more cheerful than intended. “My name is Sameen Shaw.” 

"I’m Roger and this is Trish,” said Mr Groves. “How are you finding college?” 

"It’s...good.” Wow, Shaw. So eloquent. “I’m studying to be a doctor.” 

Root’s parents shared an impressed glance. “Very admirable,” said Mrs Groves. “We’ll let you get on with your evening. Nice to meet you.” 

The call ended and Shaw closed Root’s laptop. After a second, Root came back in. 

“So do you want to have the conversation?” asked Shaw. 

_“The conversation?”_

"The ‘we’re soulmates’ conversation.” 

_“Oh, thaaaat conversation. I guess?”_ She put her laptop away and sat next to Shaw on the bed. 

Shaw took a deep breath and got her hands in position to sign. _“I don't…have feelings like other people. Don't get scared or sad or happy or lonely. I do angry pretty good, but that's about it. I honestly don't know how I can have a soulmate if I can't love someone like a normal person.”_

Root took her time replying. _“That doesn't mean there's something wrong with you. In my,admittedly limited, experience you care about people in your own way and that makes you beautiful.”_ She paused. _“Even if you can't return it, I love you.”_

Shaw reached over and covered Root’s hand which still formed the sign ‘I love you’, and used that hand to pull her forwards into a soft kiss. 


	6. Chapter 6

When the long-awaited morning arrived at last, Root was woken by her flashing alarm clock and shared a nervous smile with Shaw. _“It’s time,”_ she signed tentatively.

_“You don't have to do this, you know,_ Shaw reminded her.

Root nodded. _“Yes I do. He hurt you. That is unacceptable therefore he must be punished.”_

As Root walked past her towards the bathroom, Shaw stopped her with an arm around her waist. Her facial expression was tender, even if her actions were slightly rough. _“Nobody has ever gone to this much trouble for me before.”_

Root stiffened at the unexpected contact, then relaxed into Shaw’s touch and gave her a soft smile, patting her arm. _“Nobody has ever learned an entire language for me before. Well, aside from Harry and my parents.”_

Shaw frowned. _“Wait, what was that sign you just did for H-A-R-O-L-D?”_

Root repeated the motion with her eyebrows raised.

Shaw nodded. “Yes, that.”

_“It’s his sign language name.”_ She did it again, making her right hand into a fist with her index and middle finger extended and touching. She held it in front of her nose horizontally and moved her hand upwards. _“It’s a mixture of the letter H and the sign for nerd. I gave it to him when we were kids.”_

_“Cool,_ signed Shaw, impressed. Then she released Root and got dressed, opting to wear her dark trousers and her black tank top. When Root emerged from the bathroom she was wearing black skinny jeans, black ankle boots and a white blouse. Her hair was curled and she appeared to be wearing subtle makeup. Shaw thought she looked fantastic, as she entered the bathroom to wash her face and tie her hair up into her usual ponytail.

When Shaw returned, Root was bransihing two pain au chocolats. _“I thought we could eat breakfast here today,”_ she suggested almost shyly.

_“I’d like that,”_ replied Shaw, taking a pain au chocolat and sitting on the floor. 

Root allowed herself one victorious grin and settled herself next to Shaw. 

_“What did you mean when you said your parents don't approve of soulmates?”_ Shaw attempted to sign with a pain au chocolat in one hand. 

_“Don't talk with your mouth full,”_ Root chastised her jokingly. Then the smile slid off her face. _“My parents aren't soulmates. They don't approve of the whole ‘meet one person and spend the rest of your life with them’ angle. And they think the tattoos are stupid and people saying them is just chance.”_

Shaw nodded slowly. _“And what do you think?”_

The other girl leant back and took a breath. _“For a long time, I agreed with them. After I went deaf, how was I supposed to hear someone say my tattoo? It made sense that the whole system was stupid. Then I met you.”_

Root didn't make eye contact with Shaw, as if she was worried she had said something wrong. _“My parents were the opposite. They are soulmates, and think my tattoo is a sign from above that even if I can't love like a normal person I can still have a soulmate. And they were right. I like you, R-O-O-T.”_

_“I like you too.”_

..... 

The pair got walked to the main building together, but had to go their separate ways to class. Shaw had German and Root had her computing class. The computing classroom was next to the ladies restroom, so Root entered one of the cubicles, put the toilet seat down and sat on it. She slid her laptop out of her bag and placed it on her lap, typing quickly. Within minutes she had remotely accessed the teacher’s computer and put her USB in the port. She played the video and made it full screen. Then she put her laptop away and meekly slid into her seat in the classroom. 

She watched as the teacher’s eyes widened at the sight of the video. At the front of the classroom, Eric caught her eye and raised an eyebrow. Root smiled innocently. 

The teacher spluttered with anger and yelled what was unmistakably Jeremy Lambert’s name. Jeremy stood and walked to the front of the classroom, clearly confused. Then he saw the video. His facial expression morphed into one of pure, unadulterated rage. He started speaking, and Root turned her gaze to Eric. _“I don't understand. How did you get this? It can't be real. Somebody must have altered it!”_

Then the teacher rounded on him. _“J-E-R-E-M-Y L-A-M-B-E-R-T did you or did you not beat up S-A-M-E-E-N S-H-A-W? Answer me, boy!”_

Back to Jeremy. He had his hands in his pockets and was staring at his feet. Classic submissive posture to try and make himself seem innocent. _“Yes, Ma’am.”_

The teacher: _“You are expelled, effective immediately. The school will contact your parents while you pack your things. Get out of my classroom.”_

Root carefully controlled her facial expression, trying not to let her victory smile show. That jerk got what he deserved. She couldn't wait to tell Shaw! Eric waved and caught her attention, pointing across the classroom. Root followed his gaze and made eye contact with Harold. 

_“Good job,”_ he signed as discreetly as possible. 

_“My pleasure,”_ she replied with her signature smirk. 

“Anyway, sorry about that class,” said the teacher. “Let’s carry on, shall we?” 

The rest of the lesson was uneventful, but Root was still inwardly buzzing from her achievement. Jeremy’s goons would think twice about treating her girl badly now. 

When class was dismissed, Root passed reception on her way to meet Shaw for lunch and could see Jeremy and his suitcase through the glass panel on the door. Good riddance. 


	7. Chapter 7

After Root had finished her dramatic retelling of Jeremy’s expulsion, Shaw hugged her. Literally, grabbed Root and wrapped her arms around her. Harold and John were shocked, they had never seen Shaw hug another human being in their entire lives.

_“You’re welcome, Sweetie,”_ Root signed behind Shaw’s back, indicating for Harold to translate.

“She said ‘you’re welcome, Sweetie,” said Harold, making a valiant effort at not laughing. John, meanwhile, was sniggering behind his hand. Shaw released Root, who was still reeling from the entire ordeal. 

“Don't look at me like that, John,” said Shaw, glaring at him.

“Yeah, John, stop looking at her like that,” teased Harold, elbowing him in the side.

“Like what? This is my normal face!” protested John.

“You guys all suck!” declared Shaw. _“Not you,”_ she added to Root, who smiled.

“Anyway,” began Harold. “I’d say this huge success deserves a small celebration. We could go somewhere for lunch?”

Root nodded enthusiastically. _“I know the owner of that Italian place not far from here, we could go there?”_

It was a given that if food was available Shaw would go there, John wasn't fussy and Harold placed his trust in Root’s recommendation of the spaghetti so fifteen minutes later the four of them arrived at Paolini's. It was a small, family-run restaurant with five round tables lit by candles. The floorboards were creaky and scuffed, and the red-papered walls gave it a homely atmosphere. As soon as Root opened the door, a portly older man wearing an apron ran out of the kitchen to greet her.

“Root!” he cried in a strong Italian accent, kissing her on both cheeks. She reciprocated the gesture with a warm smile. “And these must be your friends! Welcome, welcome!” Thankfully, he didn't try and kiss any of the others. Of course, it may have been Shaw’s facial expression that stopped him. “Sit, sit! I will fetch menus.” He scurried back to the kitchen while Root and her friends sat down at the table nearest the kitchen.

“He seems...friendly,” said Harold, placing his jacket on the back of his chair.

_“We go way back,”_ replied Root. She sat between Shaw and Harold, across from John.

The man returned and presented each of them with a laminated menu card. “I am Enzo, I will be your server today. Can I get you any drinks?”

Harold asked for tea, John for water and Shaw for coke.

“For you, Root?”

“Lemonade,” she mouthed. Enzo nodded and returned to the kitchen.

The friends scanned the menu. Shaw only complained about the lack of steak once, eventually deciding on a meat-lover’s pizza. When Enzo returned with their drinks and to take their food order, Shaw ordered pizza, Root and Harold spaghetti, and John opted for a calzone.

Root raised her glass. _“To justice!”_ Her friends clinked their glasses against hers and cheered. Root took a sip of her drink, the sweet bubbles fizzing in her mouth. If you'd told her a year ago that she'd be celebrating with her friends at an Italian restaurant she never would have believed you, but things can change. Life can change.

“Here is your food,” said Enzo cheerfully, setting the plates in front of them. “Enjoy, enjoy!”

Root gracefully laid the serviette across her lap and daintily spun some spaghetti around her fork. Harold did the same, as did John. Shaw, however, tucked the serviette into her top of her shirt like a bib and picked up a slice of pizza with her hands. _"This is good,"_ she signed appreciatively.

Root made a facial expression halfway between ‘aww’ and ‘oh honey’ as she reached to wipe some tomato sauce off Shaw’s cheek with her thumb. 

Checking his watch, Harold announced, “we have to eat quickly otherwise we’ll be late.” 

_“That won't be a problem for a certain friend of ours,”_ commented Root, looking pointedly at Shaw’s half empty plate. 

“So how did you meet Enzo?” asked Shaw. 

_"When I was a kid, H-A-N-N-A’s family took us here sometimes. Her grandma was Italian. Hey, do you know what we should do? Meet up with H-A-N-N-A at the end of the semester. She’d love to meet you guys!”_ Excitement shone in her eyes at the idea. 

_“That sounds great,”_ agreed Shaw. 

"Who is Hanna?” asked John. 

__“Root’s best friend from middle school. They’re still in touch because Texas wasn't all that big,” Harold informed him._ _

_“We used to call it the B-I-S-H-O-P Hole,”_ laughed Root. 

__They finished off their meal and paid, each paying individually, and eventually left after Enzo spent a good five minutes saying goodbye to them._ _

__….._ _

__John returned to his dorm that night with Harold, as they had decided to have a movie night with just the two of them to celebrate. John went to hang his coat in the closet but paused at the sight of something that should definitely not be there. “Shaw?”_ _

__Their friend raised one hand in an awkward wave. “Hi guys.”_ _

__Harold’s jaw dropped. “Shaw, what on earth are you doing in John’s closet?”_ _

__She disentangled herself from John’s clothes and stepped into the room, redoing her ponytail that had gotten messed up. “So, I want to take Root on a date to you know thank her for doing everything in her power to get Jeremy expelled but I have no idea how to ask her or where to go or what to do. You two seem like a decent couple, what sort of dates do you go on?”_ _

__John and Harold shared a look. “That still doesn't explain why you were in my closet,” John pointed out._ _

__“I climbed in through your window then heard footsteps and realised it might be John’s roommate and hid.”_ _

__John heaved a heavy sigh. “I’m going to regret this but, why?”_ _

__Shaw looked at him like it was obvious. “So I wouldn't scare the poor soul!”_ _

__“Wouldn't finding you in the closet scare him more?” asked John._ _

__“Oh please, I’ve been out of the closet for years.”_ _

__“You do realise he meant the physical - oh never mind,” sighed Harold._ _

__Shaw threw herself onto John’s bed and crossed her legs, clasping her hands expectantly. “So, dating 101. Step one: be straight. Failed step one. What’s step two?”_ _

__“Step two: be gay,” said John._ _

__“Passed step two,” said Shaw. “Well, technically I’m bi, but still. Alright, step three?”_ _

__“Show up for the date?” offered John._ _

__“That requires both parties being aware of the location of the date,” Harold reminded him. “Step three is make sure the participants know the date, time and location of the date. Choose a venue. Where do you want to take Root?”_ _

__Shaw considered it. “The movies, maybe?”_ _

__“Do you know what time captioned viewings are?” asked Harold._ _

__“Oh, no. I can look it up.” She got out her phone and after a few seconds of Googling found a captioned showing of the new Tarzan film in the evening the next day. “Found the perfect one.”_ _

__“Take note of it,” instructed Harold._ _

__Shaw typed the relevant information into a note on her phone. “Next?”_ _

__“Do you want to eat somewhere afterwards?” asked Harold._ _

__“No...yes?” Shaw attempted to judge the correct answer from Harold's facial expression. “Yes.”_ _

__“Then you make a reservation at a nice restaurant. But be sure not to fill up on popcorn during the movie.”_ _

__“There's so much to remember,” said Shaw huffily._ _

__“But remember,” said John. “You two are soulmates. However disastrously this goes, you’ll always have that.”_ _

__Shaw stood up and put her phone in her pocket. “I think I got this. Thanks for the advice, boys.”_ _

__“You’re welcome,” said Harold._ _

__Shaw left the room and made a beeline for her dorm, mentally preparing herself for telling Root about their date._ _


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: a nightmare.  
> Also, the chapter actually featuring their date will be up some time in the next few days. I hadn't updated in a while so wanted to post this as soon as possible.

_“So what do you think?”_ asked Shaw hopefully.

 _“I think that is an awesome idea and can't wait for tomorrow!”_ signed Root excitedly, hands moving so fast they were almost a blur. _“I also think that it is very late and we should go to bed.”_

Shaw nodded in agreement and waited until Root had gone into the bathroom before getting changed and climbing into bed, deciding to read for a while. It had been a surprisingly long time since she had read something that wasn't about one of the courses she was studying, and the idea of it felt liberating. When Root returned she got into bed and went on her phone. 

Half an hour later Shaw waved to get her attention. _“Are you ready to go to sleep?”_

_"Are you?”_

_“Yes.”_

Root put her phone on the nightstand and turned off the light, curling up on her side and closing her eyes.

…..

Root woke herself up by screaming, feeling the vibrations in her chest. Panting, she sat up and realised she was shaking and covered in a cold sweat. Within seconds, Shaw had one arm around her shoulders and the other rubbing slow circles on her back. They stayed like that while Root cried, heaving sobs that shook her entire body. Her heart was pounding as she pressed her face into Shaw’s shoulder and clutched the back of her shirt, ignoring the wet patch she was making on her friend’s shoulder. She could feel the vibrations of Shaw’s chest that meant she was speaking. When she had calmed down a bit, Root pulled away and wiped her nose. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It was stupid.”

Ignoring how startled she was to hear her speak, Shaw sat next to her roommate and turned on the light on the nightstand. _“It didn't seem stupid when you were crying like that. Did you have a bad dream?”_

Still half asleep Root nodded. “I have this dream sometimes, about when I was a kid and had Meningitis. My parents didn't really know what it was, but eventually they took me to a hospital. Then one day I woke up to silence.” She looked down at her hands. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

There was a vulnerability to Root that Shaw had never seen before, and it made her next decision very easy. Shuffling so she was between Root and the wall, Shaw lay down. Root looked at her in surprise, and Shaw gestured for her to lie down as well. Root turned out the light then lay down, her back pressing against Shaw on the small bed. Her breath was still catching every few seconds, so Shaw took one of Root’s hands and intertwined their fingers. Root gently caressed Shaw’s thumb as she drifted back to sleep, comforted by the presence of another person.

The next morning Root was dragged into the land of the living by her flashing alarm clock. Immediately, she realised something was different. Her head was resting on Shaw’s shoulder and they were so close she could smell the unfamiliar scent of the other girl’s melon shampoo. One of Shaw’s hands was holding her own just like they had been when she fell asleep, and she felt a calm and peaceful in a way that she hadn't in a long time. The change in her breathing must have woken Shaw, because the other girl opened her eyes and softly smiled at her. 

“Do you know what today is?” asked Shaw verbally, since Root was on top of her right arm.

Root nodded enthusiastically. “Our date!” she mouthed.

“Are you planning on getting up any time soon?”

Root pretended to mull the idea over then snuggled closer to Shaw, letting go of her hand. _“Maybe,”_ she signed, positioning her head under Shaw’s chin and braiding a lock of the other girl’s hair.

“We do have lessons today,” Shaw reminded her.

“What?” asked Root, rolling onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows.

 _“I said, we do have lessons today,”_ she signed since Root was no longer on top of her arm.

Root pouted. 

_“It wasn't my idea!”_ Shaw signed indignantly. 

_“I know, Sweetie.”_ She rolled off the bed and picked some clothes up off the floor, tossing them into the corner that seemed to function as a washing basket. _“I never thanked you for last night. I’m really grateful for what you did.”_

_“You’re welcome.”_

…..

That day Root and Harold were in computing together, and it was a supply teacher in charge which meant they were allowed to sit wherever they wanted. Once the teacher had handed out their activity sheet, Root began excitedly telling Harold about her and Shaw’s plans, what she was going to wear and what she thought this might mean for their relationship. She was almost vibrating with excitement and Harold was sure he had never seen a smile this big on his friend’s face.

_“I was thinking of wearing my blue dress, you know the one?”_

Harold shook his head. _“I don't actually have a mental catalog of your wardrobe, you know.”_

Root tilted her head to one side and smirked at him. _“I bet you have a mental catalog of J-O-H-N’s wardrobe.”_

The tips of Harold’s ears turned red and he slid down his seat.

_“Come on, Harry. Nobody else here knows ASL.”_

Grudgingly, he sat back up. _“Anyway,”_ he signed tiredly. _“We’re halfway into this lesson and you’ve yet to pick up your pen.”_

…..

When the time finally came for their date, Root and Shaw agreed via text that Root could get ready in their room while Shaw got ready in John’s room and they would meet outside the student building. The dress code was semi-formal, also agreed upon by text. Shaw’s logic behind that was that it wasn't awkward when they were getting ready and so that one of them would not be more dressed up than the other. Basically, she wanted minimal awkwardness throughout the entire event.

Root wore a knee-length blue dress with butterfly sleeves, and had curled her hair using straighteners so it just brushed her collarbone. Her lipstick was dark red, and she decided to wear dark blue eyeshadow. Her shoes were dark blue slipons, since heels seemed to formal and she didn't want to accentuate the height differences between Shaw and herself. With her she had a small black clutch, containing her phone, wallet, keys and lipstick. After taking one last glance at herself in the bathroom mirror, she headed towards the front door.

Meanwhile in John’s room, Shaw was making similar wardrobe choices. Her dress was mid-thigh length and black, the same colour as just about everything she owned. She wore heels, and her long hair was loose with the top layer pulled out of her face and braided. She wore ruby red lipstick and deep purple eye-shadow. “How do I look?” she asked John.

“Fantastic. Root is going to be really impressed,” he replied.

“I’m not looking to impress her, I’m looking to…”

“What?” asked John. “Romance her?”

“No!”

“Then what?”

“I’m looking to...get to know her. And explore the possibility of maybe pursuing a relationship.”

“Whatever,” laughed John. “Now go out there and get to know her with the intent of maybe pursuing a relationship.” He all but pushed her out of the door then closed it behind her.


	9. Chapter 9

When Shaw arrived outside, Root was already there leaning against a wall waiting for her. One of her knees was bent so her foot was flat against the wall and her arms were folded. As she caught sight of Shaw her face morphed into a smile as she took in her appearance. _“You look great!”_ she signed with the hand not holding her purse. 

_“You don't look so bad yourself,”_ replied Shaw. _“Shall we?”_

_“We shall.”_ Shaw offered her arm and Root linked her own with it. The local cinema was a fifteen minute walk away, and the evening was quite pleasant. Cool but not cold and the setting sun cast a dusky light.

Neither of them spoke or signed, simply enjoying the other’s company and some time away from studying. When they reached the building, Shaw opened the door for Root and let her enter first.

_“Thank you,”_ signed Root cordially.

_“My pleasure,”_ replied Shaw with equal formality. The two girls shared a smile then Shaw led the way to the counter. “Two tickets for Tarzan please.”

The woman at the desk, Karen according to her nametag, tapped the screen then printed the tickets. “Anything else?”

“One second. _Do you want anything to eat or drink?”_ she asked Root.

After a second of contemplation, Root replied, _“A bottle of water, please.”_

“Please may we have a bottle of water, a coke and a small popcorn,” said Shaw, fishing some money out of her pocket.

“Of course.” Karen fetched their drinks from the fridge behind her and shoveled Shaw’s popcorn into a small box.

Shaw paid and took her items, handing Root her water. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You are in Theater 2.”

Shaw led the way and found their seats. The theater was about half full, mainly people around their age.The two girls folded down their blue-fabric-covered seats and sat, shifting until they were comfortable. The adverts played in the background as Shaw placed her popcoron on her lap and her drink in the cupholder. Root put her purse resting against her feet on the floor and unscrewed the top of her water bottle. Every now and then she took a sip as they waited for the film to start. 

_“I love the smell of cinemas,”_ signed Root out of the blue. _“Popcorn, sweets and fizzy drinks.”_

Shaw had never really noticed the smell before, but now that Root had pointed it out the scent was very distinctive. _“It is nice,”_ agreed Shaw.

The film started, and Root was immediately absorbed in what was happening on screen. Shaw watched her face in the light of the screen. The way her eyes quickly read the subtitles then flicked up to the action. But soon Shaw herself was also absorbed in the film, absentmindedly eating her popcorn and not objecting when Root stole a handful and ate it slowly.

Eventually it was Root’s turn to observe Shaw while she was unaware. She took in the way her normally impassive, smirking or bored face seemed softer and subtly reacted to what was happening on screen. Slight upturning at the corners of her mouth, or a crease between her eyebrows when things were tense.

Before they knew it credits were rolling on the screen and it was time to head out for their meal. Shaw had made a reservation at a fancy local restaurant that boasted a fantastic steak. When they arrived Shaw gave her name and they were led over to a well-lit table near the window covered with a pristine white table cloth. In the middle of the table was a small white vase containing a small white flower.

Shaw pulled Root’s chair out for her then sat in the seat opposite. The waitress presented them both with a menu - an A4 leather-bound book with laminated pages. Root smiled her thanks as the waitress left then scanned the different dishes available. Once she had decided on a pasta dish, she looked at the drinks and found herself tempted to try elderflower pressé.

Shaw knocked on the table to get Root’s attention and the other woman put down her menu. 

_“Have you decided?”_ asked Shaw.

Root nodded. _“This has been a fantastic evening. Really well thought out.”_

Shaw blushed slightly. _“I asked J-O-H-N and H-A-R-O-L-D for advice.”_

Root stiffled a laugh. _“What did they tell you? Step 1 - be straight with each other, step 2 - be gay with each other?”_

_“Something like that. Their advice was good though.”_

Root reached across the table and placed one hand on top of Shaw’s. _“I know,”_ she signed with her free hand. 

The waitress came back to take their order, and Shaw said what she wanted and Root pointed to her choices on the menu. “Thank you,” said Shaw politely. 

“This meal wasn't just to thank you for getting Jeremy’s ass expelled,” said Shaw. “It was also my way of telling you that I would like to possibly pursue a relationship with you. Since we are soulmates and all that. Normally I don't do relationships, but with you it is different. You make me smile, you make me feel things. Somebody once told me the volume on my emotions is turned way down, but you have a way of turning them up like nobody I've ever met before. Basically what I’m saying is will you date me?" 

A beat passed and Root didn't respond. Then: _“I’d love to date you! You are not like any other person I know and I love how unique you are.”_

_“So we’re calling this a relationship?”_ asked Shaw bluntly. She liked things to be direct and concrete. 

_“Yes.”_


	10. Chapter 10

A few months later

The silence of the room was broken by a cautious knock on the door. Shaw opened it and was face to face with Root who was soaking wet from head to toe. Her hair hung in damp tendrils that were scattering drips onto the carpet and a small puddle had already formed at her feet. Her white shirt was clinging to her slim form and beginning to go see-through, decorated with a handful of suds.

Shaw’s mouth made an honest to goodness ‘o’ shape as she gave her girlfriend a once-over. _“What happened to you?”_

Root blushed slightly. _“I fought the washing machine and the washing machine won.”_

Shaw tried to bite back a laugh, but it exploded out of her anyway.

_“I’m glad you’re finding this so funny! It’s a good thing I wasn't wearing my hearing aids, but I was planning on wearing this top to dinner. Stupid washing machines!”_

Root tried to enter the room, but Shaw stopped her and scurried away. She returned a few seconds later brandishing a towel for Root to wrap around herself. She did so, and was lead to the shower where Shaw instructed her to take off her clothes.

_“You might as well take a shower while I sort out the washer. How on earth did you manage to get yourself so wet?”_

Root shrugged. _“I don't know. I was loading it up with clothes when:”_ She made a gesture with her hands that seemed to encompass the general idea of a small tsunami.

Shaw shook her head, smiling despite herself. _”That would only happen to you. Did you tell anybody about it?”_

_“I was sort of hoping you would?”_

_“Yeah, OK. I’ll be back soon.”_

Shaw left the bathroom and closed the door, leaving Root to strip off her wet clothes and and attempt to drag a brush through her damp hair. As she did so, she caught sight of her tattoo in the mirror and smiled. The memory of the day he first met Shaw flooded unbidden into her mind, accompanied by happiness as she recalled everything that had happened since. 

She stepped into the shower and began washing her hair, the simple task allowing her time for reflection. The semester had flown by in a blur of dates, learning and hilarity. For spring break the squad was going on a roadtrip to Texas to visit Root and Harold’s friend Hanna Frey. Root was really excited, especially because she hadn't seen her in almost a year. 

She finished her shower and rubbed her hair with a towel, wrapping another around herself. Returning to the bedroom she was faced with Shaw who had returned bearing a pile of dry clothes.

 _“A technician fixed the washer,”_ explained Shaw. She set the clothes on Root’s bed. _“Got these done in the guy’s washer. The technicnan asked if it made any weird sounds. I couldn't really help him there.”_

Laughing, Root signed, _“It could have been playing the National Anthem and I wouldn't have known.”_

_“That's what I told him. Well, the example I used was Bohemian Rhapsody but still…”_

Root held up her hand and Shaw high-fived it. The two of them had gotten a lot closer over the semester, and had even begun using the title ‘girlfriend’ for each other.

Shaw stood and mimed knocking on a door, opening the actual door a few seconds later and inviting John and Harold in. “Hello boys.”

“Are you all packed?” asked John.

Shaw handed him a holdall nearly the same size as her. “Everything but the kitchen sink. Tried it, didn't fit.”

Laughing, Harold led the way out of the room. John followed, staggering under the weight of Shaw’s bag so comically she had to take it back. Behind them was Root, wheeling a small case.

John and Harold’s luggage was already in the trunk of Shaw’s black Ford Fiesta, and Shaw tossed her and Root’s bags in then slammed it closed. Nobody questioned the fact that Shaw was driving, and Root rode shotgun. John sat behind Shaw since that gave him the most legroom, and Harold was behind Root. Shaw started the engine and handed Root the map with their route highlighted.

“Shall we play I spy?” offered John to break the silence when they had left the school campus and were driving through the city.

“Yes!” agreed Harold enthusiastically. He tapped Root on the shoulder and signed John’s idea to her.

 _“Sounds fun,”_ she replied.

“I’m in,” agreed Shaw. “Who wants to go first?”

 _“Me!”_ signed Root. She looked out of the window, scanning the old-fashioned pub with a flower bed outside it and signs advertising a two-for-one deal on meals. _“I spy with my little eye, something beginning with H.”_ She was almost sat sideways in her seat so she could see John and Harold, with Shaw in her peripheral vision.

“Horse?” guessed Harold, pointing to the pub sign with a black horse on it.

_“No.”_

“Hat?” John gestured to the people on the sidewalk, some of whom were wearing caps or floppy hats.

_“No.”_

_“Hedge?”_ suggested Shaw as they passed a house with one outside.

 _“No.”_ Root’s expression was smug.

The three friends stared thoughtfully out of the window and at various appliances inside the car, until Root asked if they gave up. At this point they were driving through another smaller village containing several themed gift shops.

“Yes,” said Harold, which was accompanied by nods from John and Shaw.

 _“Hydrangea,”_ Root informed them. _“There were some outside that pub we passed.”_

“What on earth is a hydrangea?” asked Shaw, a mixture of confused and angry.

“It’s a type of flower,” explained Harold. “I think for future games it would be wise to choose slightly less obscure items.”

“I agree,” said John.

“How about you go next?” offered Harold.

“OK.” He looked outside at a medieval themed gift shop. “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with N.” He fingerepelled the letter for Root.

 _“Newspaper?”_ she signed as they passed a man sat outside a small café reading one.

“No.”

“Nylon?” supplied Harold, making the assumption that at least one person would be wearing nylon.

“No.”

“Nose?” was Shaw’s guess.

“No. It was knight, there was one outside the medieval gift shop.”

“Knight doesn't start with N,” said Shaw.

“Doesn't it?” asked John embarrassedly.

“I’m afraid not,” said Harold sympathetically. “It starts with a K.”

Root nodded and fingerspelled it for him.

“Thank you,” whispered John, still slightly red in the face.

“Don't be sad John,” said Harold. “It’s a mistake many have made.”

They were about twenty minutes away from the motorway, and Shaw decided a sing-along was in order, or in Root’s case a sign-along. All of them knew the words to I’m Gonna Be, so that was the first choice out of the songs on Shaw’s phone.

 _“I would walk 500 miles and I would walk 500 more,”_ sign-sang Root with a huge grin on her face. She had seen people sing and sign that song more times than she could count and knew the words and tune off by heart, since it was her parents’ favourite. Through the speaker she could feel the beat of the song, and could just about hear some of it thanks to her hearing aids and the fact that it was very loud.

Everybody else was singing and, judging from the expressions on their faces, none of them were going to be the next Celine Dion. “I bet you’re glad you’re deaf,” commented Shaw at the end of the song. “Cos take it from me, we sounded terrible.”

Root nodded. _“At this point in time I am.”_

When that song ended they were on a deserted main road about ten minutes away from the motor way. Just as the starting notes to Dancing Queen by ABBA sounded, Shaw could see something blocking the road up ahead. “Hey, what is that?” It was a large, white cuboid with the setting sun glinting off it and casting a shadow.

 _“A truck?”_ guessed Root.

“No, it’s a coach,” said John as they got close enough to see it properly.

“There appears to be some sort of technical issue,” commented Harold.

Since there were no other vehicles and the coach was blocking their path, Shaw stopped the car and sent John out to investigate.

He got out and strode over to the coach, knocking on the door. The driver opened it for him and John stepped inside. “Is there a problem?” he asked politely.

“Indeed there is. We have broken down and I don't have the tools to fix the pedal. I tried to call somebody but there is no signal out here in the sticks.” The driver sighed and looked down the coach. It was full of pensioners, tourist families and young mothers with crying babies. All of them looked tired and fed up. John suspected it was some sort of guided tour of the area.

“Let me talk to my friends,” he offered, pointing to their car. “One of them might be able to help.”

“Thank you,” said the driver.

John stepped down from the coach and sat back in his seat in Shaw’s car. “They’ve broken down. Some problem with the pedal, they can't fix it.”

“Well why didn't they say so!” cried Shaw. She got out and slammed her door, retrieving something from the trunk and marching over to the coach. The driver let her on and she held up a car repair kit. “What is the problem?”

“The clutch pedal is broken and we don't have a spare,” he explained.

“Let me have a look,” said Shaw. Placing her bag on the floor next to her, she sat down in the driver's seat, moved it forward and tested the pedal with her foot. It was stiff, far stiffer than it should be, and when it reached the bottom it didn't come up with her foot. “It might need oiling,” she suggested, rummaging through her bag for an oilcan. Once she had it, she moved the seat all the way back and knelt before the pedals, expertly oiling the clutch. After that she brought seat forward again and tested it. Smooth as butter. “Fixed,” announced Shaw, standing up and slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Thank you so much!” gushed the driver. A smattering of polite applause sounded from the back of the coach.

“No problem,” said Shaw, exiting the coach. As sure returned to her car, the coach engine started up and it was on its way.

“Shaw to the rescue?” teased John.

“More like ‘Shaw had the sense to pack a car repair kit’,” said Shaw.

“Never fear, Shaw is here!” said John, unwilling to let such a good opportunity to tease Shaw go.

“Shut up,” she grumbled, driving after the coach.

 _“Yeah, your presence usually makes people fear,”_ laughed Root.

“John: shut your mouth. Root: sit on your hands. Harold: keep up the good work,” ordered Shaw, eyes on the road. With occasional help from the map, they soon reached the motorway, and after that it was not too long before they passed a green sign that read ‘welcome to Texas’. From there, Root was able to give them directions to an out of the way farmhouse.

 _“Welcome to the Bishop Hole. This is Hanna’s parents’ house,”_ signed Root. _“Such a blast from the past.”_

“Are you sure there’s room for us all?” Shaw said and signed, analysing the size of the house and possible amount of bedrooms. The actual area of land was quite big but most of it was taken up by a shed/stable thing and a field.

 _“Mr and Mrs F-R-E-Y are staying with friends out of town.”_ Root stepped out of the car and into the stifling heat, the others following her lead.

The air was hot and dry in a way that seemed almost heavy, and Shaw was fairly sure she could hear crickets chirping in the distance. Before Root had even rung the doorbell, a pretty girl wearing a denim skirt and checked top with wavy dark hair, not unlike Root’s, threw open the door and swept her into a huge hug.

 _“Hi,”_ signed Root embarrassedly. Of all the times to suddenly become shy, she thought to herself. 

“Hi!” said Hanna. She turned to the others. “I’m Hanna.” 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Harold, this is John and Shaw.” 

They awkwardly smiled at each other until Hanna led them in and gave them a quick guided tour. “We have the living room, dining room, bathroom, this is my bedroom and here we have the first guest room. I was thinking the girls could stay here?” 

The room had a smooth wooden floor with a pale blue rug in the center, cream-painted walls with a few wooden supporting beams and twin beds, one on either side of the window. “That’s great,” said Shaw. Root nodded enthusiastically.

Hanna led them on to the second guest room for the guys, then helped them unload the cases from the car. 

“What on earth do you have in here, Shaw?” grunted John. 

"Nothing I don't need,” she replied. “At least I didn't pack an entire library like Harold.” 

_“No, you just packed an entire car repair kit and a spare tyre,”_ snarked Root.

Shaw dumped her case on the floor. _“Well it came in handy!”_

Hanna gathered them all in the living room. “Since my parents are away I have to do all the farm work myself, so would you mind helping me feed the cows?”

 _“No problem,”_ signed Root.

 _“Can you still remember what to do?”_ asked Hanna in rusty ASL.

Root nodded. _“I’ve not been gone that long!”_

While the Root instructed the boys on how to prepare the feed, Shaw and Hanna gave the cattle clean bedding. It was important that the cows had fresh hay and straw, so Shaw spread it evenly on the floor of their stalls. When she was finished, the stroked the nose of one of the cows.

“That’s Ernest,” said Hanna, resting her elbows on the top of the stall door.

“Hello Ernest,” said Shaw. “How old is he?”

“Two years. We got him when Root and I left high school.”

Shaw nodded slowly. “That’s right, you went to school with Root. How long have you known her?”

Hanna frowned and counted on her fingers. “About eleven years.”

“So you knew her before she lost her hearing?” Shaw looked at Ernest and stroked his nose again.

“Yes. But that's not something its my place to discuss.”

“Of course not. I was just asking,” said Shaw. 

Hanna leaned slightly closer to Shaw. “I have honestly never seen anybody make Root as happy as you do. She loves you.”

“And I love her,” said Shaw so quietly Hanna wasn't sure she had actually said it at all. Either way, she knew Shaw meant it.

…..

Later that night, Shaw and Root sat in the guest bedroom.

“So we’re near Dallas right?” asked Shaw as she folded her clothes and placed them in her case.

_“Yes, why?”_

Shaw shrugged. _“I always thought I might like to be a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader.”_

Root’s eyebrows shot up and her mouth quirked into a smile. _“Really?”_

_“See, now you know something new about me. Tell me something new about you.”_

Root thought for a second. _“I used to pretend I was a princess and the one of the cows was my noble steed.”_

_“That’s cute.”_

_“Just like you.”_

Shaw laughed and Root turned out the light.


End file.
